


Is That My Hoodie?

by MidnightCity



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Autumn, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hoodie Theft, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightCity/pseuds/MidnightCity
Summary: Mark's hoodies started to disappear, only to be found on none other than Fernando Alonso ...





	Is That My Hoodie?

**Author's Note:**

> This fictional ballad takes place in the distant year of 2014.

Mark leaned against the kitchen counter while watching his coffee brew. He had woken up after Fernando, only finding a note that informed him that he had gone out for a morning jog. Mark was aware that it helped him adjust to the time difference after returning from a flyaway race. Under normal circumstances there was hardly a task more difficult than getting Fernando out of bed in the morning. 

The coffee machine finished brewing and Mark took the cup. Gingerly, he held it between his hands, welcoming the warmth that radiated from it, since the weather had cooled down over night. As Mark looked into the garden he noticed that a few leaves had already turned brown. It wouldn’t take long until the whole street would be a maze of orange, red and brown colours.

Mark hoped that this time Fernando had put on enough clothes when going out. Not only did Fernando freeze quicker than Mark, he just had to recall autumn last year when they had walked the dogs. Mark had looked at the side, seeing a Fernando Alonso who was sporting a red nose and stuffing his hands into his trousers pockets to keep them warm. Fernando had scoffed at the idea that he wasn’t wearing enough clothes.

“It is my Spanish blood. Am not made for this weather,” Fernando had insisted. 

“Yeah, sure …” Mark had slipped out of his jacket and wrapped it around Fernando’s shoulders. “… and my Australian blood keeps me warm. Makes sense.” He added with an eye-roll.

Fernando had only nodded vigorously while snuggling deeper into Mark’s jacket.

“You are smiling.”

Mark was pulled back to reality by Fernando’s voice. “Hmm?” Fernando was still catching his breath as he walked up to Mark and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Got my note?” Fernando asked, as he hoisted himself up on the kitchen counter and sat on it.  

“Yeah.” Mark nodded and nudged the cup of tea he had made for Fernando in his direction. “Here.”

 “Gracias.”

Mark spotted a small blush on Fernando’s cheeks. He couldn’t tell if it came from the small gestures that passed between them – Mark was well aware that Fernando cherished them more than the big ones – or if it came from the weather. It seemed that he had put enough clothes on, long sweatpants and a grey shirt poked out from underneath the navy-blue hoodie. Suddenly, Mark did a double take.

“Is that mine?” Mark asked, pointing at the hoodie.

Fernando stopped mid-motion. His feet no longer moved as they dangled down the counter, and his teacup had stopped halfway to his mouth. “¿Pérdon?” Fernando asked, before he continued to take a sip, and pretended he had done nothing wrong.

“The hoodie,” Mark elaborated calmly.

“No lo se.” Fernando shrugged his shoulders and only looked at his clothes for half a second. “Just took one from the closet.”

However, while Fernando spoke those words, Mark noticed that the redness on his cheeks had intensified considerably. This time it wasn’t weather related. “Mhm.” Mark smirked and shoot Fernando a look. _Busted, mate._

Fernando cleared his throat and shook his head. “Do you mind?”

“Nah, looks good on you, mate.” To reassure that he meant it he pressed a kiss on Fernando’s cheek. Then he turned towards the cooker, explaining “Now, take a shower while I fix us some proper breakfast.” He wouldn’t miss the opportunity to have a quiet and comfortable breakfast with Fernando.

Fernando hopped down the counter. “Gracias.” After he placed his mug into the sink he hugged Mark from behind, and kissed his cheek lightly. Mark pressed into the touch, enjoying that Fernando nuzzled a little into his neck. “Te amo.” Fernando gave him a squeeze before leaving for the bathroom.

“I love you too,” Mark replied when Fernando was out of ear-shot, just standing there and marvelling at the man he had chosen to be with. How could one person make him feel at home so easily? It did not matter if they were in Australia, Spain, England, Switzerland or even Bahrain, as long as Mark woke up next to Fernando, and saw his smile during the day, he felt at home anywhere in the world.

Mark heard Fernando turn on the shower, and shook his head. “Breakfast …” Mark had to remind himself.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where the fuck is it?” Mark cursed as he dug through his closet. He was _sure_ that he had washed the grey hoodie a few days ago. Then he had put it on top of his pile. Now it wasn’t anywhere to be found. He had checked the laundry basket again, he had checked his travel bag, he had even checked inside the washing machine!

It sounded silly, but Mark wanted to wear it while watching Fernando race. He knew how much Fernando liked seeing the hoodie on Mark. Even though Mark failed to recognise exactly why he thought that it suited him so well. It was a very soft and warm hoodie and every time Mark wore it Fernando took the liberty to hug him a few seconds longer, or snuggle into it while Mark was lying on the sofa going over some technical report by Porsche. Fernando loved that stupid hoodie, and now it was gone!

“Fuck …” Mark sighed, as he flopped down on the sofa to switch on the race. It wasn’t like Fernando could _see_ him wear it. The best he could have done with the distance was send a photo. Still, Mark couldn’t explain it, but he felt like he would have been a little closer to Fernando by wearing it.

The race hadn’t started, and the commentators were still going through the race build up. Mark didn’t need to hear about Fernando’s “frustrating year at Ferrari” on the television. _As if they knew anything …_ Mark rolled his eyes as they tried to guess Fernando’s future options. Instead of paying attention Mark decided to scroll through Twitter.

He noticed that Fernando had been active an hour ago, retweeting a few posts wishing him good luck and the occasional selfie with a fan.  Mark smiled at one particular photo in which Fernando’s hair was still tousled. It looked like he had either just gotten up or ran his hand through it in a futile effort to tame it.

Mark smiled to himself. The time difference made calling tricky, so they were texting. Just as Mark wanted to type a new message to Fernando, he noticed something in the photo.

“Are you kidding me?” Mark double tapped his screen to zoom in. There it was, right on display for the whole world to see: Mark’s grey hoodie. “You rotten thief.”

Mark laughed despite himself, and shook his head. He had harboured suspicions that Fernando had turned into a hoodie thief ever since he had found clothes in the washing that Mark hadn’t even worn. “I knew it.”

Then Mark typed a message and sent it to Fernando.

_\- You could have told me that you borrowed my hoodie._

He didn’t expect an answer before the race, after all Fernando would concentrate more on preparing for it than checking his phone. However, a few minutes after the national anthem had played Mark’s phone beeped.

_\- Which hoodie?_

Mark smiled. He was happy that Fernando had found the time to reply to him.

_\- The one you wore all day and is mine._

For a while Mark watched the “…” on his screen which indicated that Fernando was typing.

_\- I also have grey hoodies … ;)_

Mark bit his cheek and rolled his eyes. “Of course, you

_\- Everyone can see that it is a size too big, short-arse._

\- :* 

_\- Next time just tell me where my clothes are_

_\- You are no fun_

Mark could picture the puppy face Fernando was pulling right now. Before he had the chance to type a reply another message from Fernando came through.

_\- Need to go. Time to race!_

_\- Have a good one, Fer._ _♥_

-  :) 

* * *

 

Mark felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched their Porsche go around the track. Desperately he pulled his arms closer to his body, trying to find a little bit of warmth. The t-shirt alone was not enough to keep him warm in the open pit.

 “You okay? You look a bit …” Mark turned around, hearing Brendon’s voice. “… cold?”

Mark shot him a deadly look. By now this had become a running gag within the team.  _Oh, Mark forgot his Porsche hoodie at home and now he’s cold, how funny._ Mark would have gladly played along had he really forgotten his hoodie at home. He was sure that he had not!

 “I told you before …” Mark began to explain. “Fernando stole it.”

Brendon rolled his eyes. “Of course, he has.”

“Yeah, he has this new habit …” Mark tried to explain as he was cut off by Brendon.  “Just say you forgot it, and you’ll get a new one.”

Not only did his teammates tease him relentlessly for freezing his butt off, they had also managed to talk the rest of the Porsche team into not giving him any clothes as long as he didn’t admit to his negligence. Since Mark had  _not_ forgotten anything, he had nothing to admit. Sadly, this resulted in him slightly shivering when he wasn’t racing. It wouldn’t be too bad during the race because he always had to wear a race suit and the fire-proof underwear. However, when he was checking up on the events after his practice the harsh autumn air cut his skin. 

“I told you already,” Mark kept insisting. “I did  _not_ forget it!”

At least of sorts. Mark always packed two hoodies in case something happened to one. Even if Fernando had taken one out of his bag, then there should have been a second one. However, there hadn’t been. Mark would be damned before he’d admit to this mistake. After all, he should not have to take thieving partners into account!

Then another gush of cold wind blew through the box. This only sent another shiver down Mark’s spine.

“Even the best of us forget things.” Brendon patted Mark’s shoulder, trying to console him. Mark wasn’t sure if he should laugh, or maybe break his arm … just a little bit. “And with increasing age, you are prone to forgetting.”

 _Break his arm._ Mark thought but he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

 “I mean, I would lend you one of mine … but you’re a bit …” Brendon made a gesture Mark couldn’t quite understand. Mark wasn’t anything you’d call fat, but Brendon was simply too skinny for Mark to fit into his clothes. On the other hand, Timo was too short …

“Skinny prick,” Mark muttered under his breath.

Brendon shrugged his shoulders. “Saves weight.”

After another shiver ran down his spine, he retreated towards the back of the box in the hope of finding a warmer spot and tea. Warm, and wonderful tea!

“I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?” Mark asked as he walked away.

“Never.”

 

* * *

 

A sigh escaped Mark as he locked the door. He did not intend to wake up Fernando just because his flight back home had been delayed. Dropping his bag in the hall, he noticed the faint flickering from the television in the living room.

“Fer?” Mark whispered in case he had fallen asleep while watching. When he reached the living room a small smile played on his lips. In an instant he knew that he had returned home. Fernando was curled up on the sofa, his feet tucked under his chin and holding his phone loosely in his hands. Mark saw the small LED blinking that indicated an unread message – probably the one Mark had sent after landing. 

Mark switched off the television, and knelt down in front of Fernando. He didn’t want him to spend the night on the sofa, so he carefully tucked a strand of loose hair behind his ear. “Nando?” he whispered, and ran his thumb along his cheek.

Fernando stirred. “Hmpf … Mark?” he mumbled. He opened his eyes ever so slightly and a moment later a wide smile spread across Fernando’s face. “Mark. You’re home.” Fernando reached for Mark’s face and cupped his cheek. He ran his thumb along the fine stubble and then over Mark’s lips.

Mark kissed his thumb lightly. “Let’s get you into bed,” he suggested. He reached under Fernando’s arms and pulled him into a sitting position. Fernando rubbed his face, and nodded as he ran his hand through his hair.

Then Mark noticed the clothes Fernando was wearing. Especially the hoodie caught his eye. Even in the dark room he could recognize the red and white pattern of his Porsche hoodie. “You’re a thief,” Mark whispered as he moved another strand of hair out of Fernando’s vision.  _One who could use a hair-cut as well._ Mark smiled at the absurdity of the thought.

“Te extrañé,” Fernando muttered in his defence.

“I missed you too,” Mark admitted quietly. He cupped Fernando’s cheek. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed the feeling of his beard under his fingers. Or how much he had missed that smile. He always pushed these thoughts and feelings aside during the race. Mark swallowed and bit his lip. “Still, that’s no reason to steal my clothes,” Mark opted for a joke, instead of admitting more than he already had.

“Falso.” Fernando corrected promptly. “You pack two anyway.”

 “Yeah, this time it was only one ...” Fernando offered little more than a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. “Come on, lean on me.”

Mark reached around Fernando’s frame and pulled him to his feet. Fernando gladly wrapped an arm around Mark for support. Then a sigh escaped him.  

 “Is not easy …” Fernando mumbled quietly as he leaned further against Mark. “… being apart.”

Mark understood him. It was their first year racing in different sports, and their relationship had to adjust. It was different. On the one hand, there was less attention on them and they could loosen up about being seen in public together, or that a dinner could spark scandalous rumours that they were conspiring against Red Bull. Mark could freely compliment Fernando’s talent without worrying what his team was thinking. On the other hand, there was a physical distance they had to adjust to, there were no good luck wishes a few minutes before race starts, no hand-shakes and hugs after scoring podiums. Should Fernando crash again, Mark could not soothe the fear away the same night like he had done in Spa in 2012 …

Fernando had admitted that the change to the WEC had done wonders to Mark’s spirit and while they visited each other’s races as often as their schedules allowed, it would still take some time until they would become fully accustomed this change.

The only thing Mark could do now was give Fernando a tight squeeze. “I know,” he whispered as they reached their bedroom. He pressed a kiss on the top of Fernando’s head and gently nudged him onto the bed.

“Helps,” Fernando muttered, as he crawled up to the pillow and embraced it.  

“Sorry?” Mark gently tugged on Fernando’s jeans, and pulled them off.

 “Your clothes …” Fernando mumbled into the pillow “… they smell like you. Feels closer.”

Mark smiled at the words. He hung the jeans over the end of the bed and took off the uncomfortable clothes he was wearing. Then he slipped underneath the sheets and wrapped them around Fernando as well as he took him in his arms.

“Ahora estoy aquí,” Mark whispered in Fernando’s ear. He took a deep breath, smelling Fernando’s soap and shampoo. There were so many little things he missed when they were apart, one was how his cheek felt against his. So Mark pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. Then Fernando turned slightly and kissed him sleepily on his lips.

“Sí,” Fernando agreed. He turned fully around so he could face Mark, breathe him in and rest his head against Mark’s chest. Mark welcomed this just as much as he placed his chin on Fernando’s head and closed his eyes. He slipped his hands underneath the Porsche hoodie Fernando was still wearing. He hadn’t had the heart to take if off of him … yet.

“Next time,” Mark muttered just about to fall asleep, content that he could feel Fernando’s warm skin underneath his fingertips. “Ask before you take my clothes.”

Fernando shook his head. He placed a feather-light kiss on Mark’s chest. “Can’t promise.”

“Then at least make sure I won’t freeze my butt off …” Mark suggested.

“Not my fault you pack badly.”

“Nano …” Mark whined, but he could feel Fernando smiling against his chest.

“You like me in your team-kit.”

“A bit,” he admitted. He enjoyed the thought that Fernando might join him during the  _24h of Le Mans_  next year. “But I don’t like freezing my arse off in autumn.”

“Do you want me to freeze instead?” Fernando sounded hurt, and pulled a little away from Mark so they could look at each other.

“No …” Mark admitted quietly. Then he pulled the zipper of the Porsche hoodie further up, just to make sure.

“You can borrow my clothes too … ” Fernando offered him. Even though Fernando was considerably shorter than Mark they were only one size apart. Mark’s clothes were sitting loosely on Fernando, while Fernando’s clothes were a tight but not uncomfortable fit on Mark. “ … Like you have been doing in summer.”

“That is …” Mark tried to find the words. Fernando inched closer again, pleased with the reaction. Mark had thought that his actions had gone unnoticed. “… that was only … I mean … I never … at least this didn’t result in you freezing your arse off,” Mark stated at last.

“You can’t want that …” Fernando mumbled. “… after all, my arse is too cute to freeze.” Then a yawn escaped him.

Mark rolled his eyes, and gave Fernando a squeeze. “And mine isn’t?”

“Australian blood keeping you warm, remember?” Fernando smiled against his chest. “And is a good arse.”

“Stop steeling my clothes …” Mark demanded quietly. He noticed that Fernando’s body had already gone limp, and he was only loosely clutching Mark’s shirt now.

“No promises,” he muttered, barely audible. “And you mine.”

Mark pressed a gentle kiss on Fernando’s head, noticing that he had drifted off to sleep now. “No promises either, Fer.”


End file.
